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He shook his head in slow motion. “I don’t change my mind once I’ve made it up.”
“What do you mean?” Everyone changed their mind. I’d changed mine five times this morning regarding what to wear.
“Once I commit to something, something important and life-changing, I don’t waver. Ever. I’m determined to see it through.”
Huh. Was that an attribute? Or perhaps stubbornness. “Okay.”
“I understand, however, why you might hesitate. And the last thing I want to do is pressure you into something you might not be ready for. I recognize there’s a sacrifice involved if you were to be with me.”
“The sacrifice being a romantic relationship?”
“Yes. I hope we can become friends and create a good working partnership when it comes to parenting our children, but this isn’t a love match. I don’t want to mislead you or give you hope for something this wouldn’t ever be.”
He was being more than clear. And considering the intensity radiating from him, there was no doubt he meant every word. “You mentioned separate bedrooms? We would never share a bed?”
“No, I’m a restless sleeper who snores, and I like my personal space. You’d have the guest room.”
“We wouldn’t be married?”
His nose scrunched. “I don’t see the need, do you?”
It was giving up yet another part of my love-match dream, but hadn’t I already abandoned that idea? “No. I suppose not. Would you be okay with the kids having my last name? Because I don’t want a different name than my children.”
He frowned. “Neither do I.”
“I suppose we could hyphenate the names.” I’d deal with the fallout in kindergarten when our kid lamented having to spell out such a long last name.
“Does that mean you’re in?”
“You’re handing me everything I want, so I’m waiting for the catch.”
“As long as we stay on the same page and put the kids first, I don’t see there is one.”
“What would we tell people at the office? Or our family?”
“Do we need to tell them right now?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Then we have time to think about how we want to describe our relationship.”
I sighed, picturing my parents’ disappointment once I told them I was having a baby but not getting married. Then again, I’d been used to disappointing them ever since bringing home my first C on a report card, and they realized I’d never be the doctor or lawyer they’d hoped for. “Elective co-parenting,” I murmured, getting used to the words.
“If you need more time to think about this, I understand.”
“I do have more questions, which I’m sure is annoying.”
“It’s a life-changing decision, and one you shouldn’t take lightly. I’d be worried if you didn’t have questions.”
“Well, okay, then. Would we still have sex?”
His lips tipped up. “How else do you think you’d get pregnant?”
“I mean after. Say we have four kids and are done, you and I would still have sex?”
“Four, huh?”
I let out an exasperated breath. “Focus here. I can’t possibly share a house with you and not want sex. Especially after last night.”
